How do You Mend a Broken Heart?
by Irrestible
Summary: HermioneDraco. rated R for drug use and smoking
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own it.

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Harry was a wreck.

Just a plain wreck.

He was a wreck because he pushed away the only person who really loved him.

The only person who ever loved like he knew he didn't deserve, a person who loved him for being Harry, not Harry Potter the Freak, not Harry Potter the Savior of the Wizarding World; just Harry.

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_Flashback_

"_I can't believe you're so stupid, Hermione! I asked for starched shirts, and of course, they aren't! What the bloody hell did I do to get an incompetent girlfriend like you?!" Hermione looked at her shoes, staying silent: she knew he didn't mean it. _Just let him rant on and then he'll apologize later, like he always does._ Harry stood in the corner, waiting for a response from her. "You know what Hermione? It's over; I can't live like this." _

_Hermione looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "If that's what you want." She went into their, now his bedroom, and picked up a few boxes. Harry's eyes went wide._

"_You were going to move out already?"_

_She sighed and put them down, "Harry, you'll soon see how life is without me, and when you do, the only question you'll be asking is, 'how do you mend a broken heart?'" Hermione shrinked her boxes and walked out. Walked out of the door and out of his life._

_Within seconds, he knew he had made the biggest mistake of his life

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_

Harry found out were Hermione was after looking for months. He finally found her house, after yearning for a long time to see her, he found her.

He could see her through the window, talking on the phone with someone; she never looked more gorgeous. Harry decided to get her attention by throwing a rock; she heard it and peered outside. "Harry?"

"Hermione, I just have one question: how do you mend a broken heart?"

"Just leave, Harry, you broke my heart and now I'm mending it. Alone, without you and your neuroses. Good bye, Harry." As she shut the window, and Harry could literally feel the shutting of his heart: He would never find someone as good as her.

Harry continued down the road, in the pouring rain. Nothing really mattered anymore without Hermione. He continued down the road, thinking he heard his name. The rain made him feel cold, but that didn't matter; the warmth in his heart was gone.

He swore heard a voice call his name again but this time he actually heard it, "HARRY!"

Hermione caught up with him, soaking wet. Inches away from his face, she answered his question. "You mend a broken heart like this."

She pulled him in for a kiss.

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A/N: That's all I got. Please Review. 


	2. OliverPercy

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Disclaimer: I don't own it. 

A/N- I decided to do it again but a slash ship this time: classic (Oliver and Percy) If you don't like it don't read it.

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Oliver and Percy had a flat together; perfectly content until Oliver began to take steroids. And drink. When Oliver started to drink, he drank like it was New's Years Eve every day.

"What the bloody hell is this?" Oliver asked one night when he saw Percy painting on the terrace.

"It's a painting love." Percy could hear the alcohol in his breath; he learned to tolerate it. The best thing to do is ignore it. Oliver stumbled out onto the terrace, a bottle of gin in his hand, and said, "Well I think it loo-looks like shit. Throw it out." Then he stumbled back inside, slumping onto the couch. Percy walked back inside and started to massage Oliver's shoulders.

"Babe, I like it. So I'm not throwing it out." At that, he went into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of tea.

"THE HELL YOU ARE! I am the man in this relationship and what I say goes!" Oliver stopped rambling and thought about what he had said.

"And than in lies the stupidity in that argument." Before Percy knew what was going on, Oliver had crossed the apartment, threw the tea onto the rug, and then slapped Percy in the face. Percy couldn't believe Oliver had just hit him.

"Oliver Randolph Mitchell Wood, I'm leaving you." Percy went into the bedroom and pulled out a suitcase. Within seconds Percy was gone.

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Two weeks later, Harry called Percy. Not to talk about how Percy was doing but how Oliver was doing.

"Hello Percy?"

"Yes?"

"This is Harry. How are you?"

"Cut the pleasantries and tell me why you really called."

"Oliver."

"I don't want to talk to him. He's abusive and I don't want to be slapped around for the rest of my life."  
Silence on the other end of the line. "He's stopped with his addictions. And working him into a coma. The only person who will instill some wisdom in him is you."

"That's what they all say. I don't love him at all."

"Just go see him. I won't stop calling until you do."

Percy hung up on Harry, who called back.

Twenty two times in four hours, so Percy went down the Quidditch team's work out room at 4 a.m. Sure enough, Oliver was there pumping iron.

"Ollie you won't get that pain away by doing that." Oliver dropped the 150 dumbbell on his foot but starred at Percy like he was a vision.

"Then what do I have to do? This pain is never going to go away."

Percy leaned in and kissed him. "Does that help?"

"Oh God." Well one thing led to another.

And now Percy Arthur Weasley is not allowed in the English Quidditch Team's weight room

EVER.

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A/N: Read and Review. No flames please!


	3. It Wasn't There

Hermione and Draco

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Living in Paris was supposed to be wonderful, fabulous, and glamorous.

Not so.

Hermione sat on the terrace smoking a cigarette (In a wizard's body smoking has no danger in it).

Draco seemed to be dragging deeper and deeper. He had a problem, an addiction, but didn't want to deal with it.

Bursting into the flat, Draco stumbled into the bathroom.

"Draco?"

The only answer she got was the slamming and locking of the door.

Hermione took another puff of the cigarette: best way to deal with Draco's PMS like syndrome was to light a cigarette and wait for him to come to her.

Nevermind the fact she had been waiting for the last six months.

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After awhile, Hermione became worried. And decided to unlock the door.

Draco was hanging on the toilet, his pale skin death ivory and his eyelids where dark purple.

"Draco! Draco, answer me." She stepped forward hearing the crunch of pills: it looked like an overdose. She flipped him over and listened for his heart.

It

Wasn't

There.

Taking his body close to hers she apperated to St. Mungo's.

Hoping, no praying that the Power that Be save her boyfriend's life.

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A/N: If you want me to continue review


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